PF 2
by TheJauntyJabberwock
Summary: Sequel to Pendulous Fall. For this one my personal challenge is to do something kind of cute, though since it's Crane it will probably still be plenty dark too. (Student/teacher/friends)
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** SPOILERS ahead if you haven't read my fic the Pendulous Fall, as this is a sequel. If you don't care read on if you do read the other first. This one I only have a few chapters planned out so far but...here we go! After all it's October soon, and I just HAVE to put out a new Scarecrow something for the season. Plus I need to get SOMETHING forced out of me. Once again I'm pulling mostly from pre New 52 comic book verse. He'll be a little softer in this fic, more similar to his animated series and very early year runs in many places.

Rating subject to change later if it proves necessary.

* * *

"It's _our_ job to tend to our patients, not yours." Doctor Yi really didn't like Crane's idea, and it was evident he likewise had little patients with her.

"With all due respect, doctor, none of you have made any progress prior either. I did."

"You," her words were sharp, "are a fellow patient. You aren't qualified-"

"Then perhaps as a fellow patient I'll have better luck. If you're concerned about me harming the child, you'd be welcome to come with me." her eyes narrowed on Crane, who had been brought back in by Batman only a few days prior.

"Yes, well, the other patients are not my concern. You-" Crane cut her off,

"Let me be frank with you. It's cute that you think you have a chance against me, but there's a reason why the position you fill was vacant for so long. If I set my full attention on you, I promise you will be plucking out your own eyes within the week. You can look offended by my assurance all you like, but it will not create an alternate outcome. Or, you can humor me, and I'll allow your employers to think you're actually making progress." he folded his hands on his lap and calmly waited for her response. Her poor little mind was pondering out the possibilities, going back over his history, weighing what he had offered against the policies in place. After a long moment she sighed and set her notes down.

"Well, I know for a fact no prior traditional methods have had any luck with you. Perhaps this could be worth looking into. I'll speak to my higher ups about your proposal, though I can make no promises."

"Oh, of course not. I understand completely." Crane seemed pleased enough, even going so far as to smile, which seriously sent a chill down Doctor Yi's spine. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

"In the mean time," she continued, "Perhaps we can talk about-"

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Jeramiah Arkham balked at the woman for even suggesting it, but continued with his reprimand.

"You've read his file, which means you know perfectly well his history even with-"

"I don't think it's like that. I really think he might care about this, and that alone could be the hope we need to make progress! It's not like we won't be able to monitor the interaction. And, I hate to say this, but it's not like our other patient is improving or can get much worse. Can't you at least think about it?" Arkham looked over the woman with serious consideration, reluctance still tugging at his mind.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

Crane was grinning ear to ear, which by itself almost made Doctor Yi change her mind completely and see about putting him in solitary for a few days. Just to discourage anything he _might_ be planning. But in the end she reminded herself that surely even the worst had some element of humanity to them, and it was her very job to dig it out. He had been searched, and every page of the books he carried examined. Thrice. Two orderlies accompanied them, both understandably on edge as they made their way to the medical wing.

"You'll be allowed a few minutes, if you try anything you'll spend a month in solitary for it." she reminded him of the technicalities, though his attention was on the door ahead. Her next words came a touch softer,

"Um...this might not be how you remember. Maybe you should prepare yourself before-"

"I am plenty prepared, you're forgetting I'm the one who dropped her off at the hospital to begin with." A nod, and they moved through the doors.

He paused to take in the details of the room, and he was relieved to see she looked much the same as he remembered. Hair still in a tangled dark mass, bags under her eyes, skin stretched tight over bones and wires in her arms, but she was alive. She was actually alive! He inched closer, noting that she had the same glossed over look from before to her eyes.

"Has she been unresponsive again?" the doctors nodded and he mirrored the motion. They watched and waited, half expecting him to try to pull something at the last moment, though they wouldn't know what.

"Jessica," instead his voice was uncharacteristically soft, trying to get her attention to no avail.

"Jessica, can you hear me?" after a pause that took much too long for his taste, he was about to try once more when her eyes slowly, slowly, turned towards him. Only her eyes, the rest of her remained still. It was still something. His smile returned.

"Everyone thought you were dead, you know. But of course no one stays dead for long in this city." he chuckled to himself, though she still didn't respond beyond the movement of her eyes. He continued,

"I brought you some books. To help pass time while you're stuck in the medical wing." another wait, but her eyes gradually fell to them.

He held out the novels, much as he had for their first interaction. Her arms moved with the same heavy weight as her eyes, he wondered what drugs they had her on? Yet she took the books, looking down at them now. Without a word towards him she cracked open the first binding, leaving him to wonder if she was refraining from speaking to him simply because of the other company in the room. Not that they mattered. He already had a plan for getting them both out of there. Everything had already been arranged.

"I'm going to help you." he didn't much care if the others heard him or not, they were unimportant. He had always wanted a student, a protege, someone to share his work with truly. Someone who qualified and-

Jessica began to rip the pages out of the book. Her eyes didn't blink, tears beginning to fall as she ripped and balled up the pages, faster and faster without looking at him once, throwing what was left of the novels away from herself with a frustrated scream that made him back away in shock and made the orderlies rush in to stop her. And him.

"I...I didn't do that! I didn't do anything! Jessica, stop, it's me!" he tried to explain, but they were already quite literally carrying him out of the room with one on each arm and Doctor Yi quickly following behind.

"What's wrong with her? What did you do to her?" he demanded to know.

"We didn't do anything, but obviously this was a bad idea." she sighed and earned a glare from Crane, who yanked his arms out of the orderlies grasp and nearly fell on his face in the process, but kept his feat.

"If you expect anyone in this place to get anything but worse," his words dripped venom as he closed the distance between himself an his doctor, though she stood her ground and motioned for the orderlies to not bother pulling him away, "then you're living in a dream world." he had knelt down to almost press his crooked nose to hers, but she didn't even blink.

"She was barely alive when they found her, just because her body has begun to recover doesn't mean her mind has. Which is exactly where we come in. Let us do our jobs, and when she improves I'll see about getting you another visit." she believed him when he said he didn't do anything just then. She wasn't sure what the whole story was, but she could tell that he, for what ever reason, had genuine concern. If she could nourish that, she would. He seemed to appreciate the sentiment enough to remove himself from her personal bubble and regain his usual composure.

His plans would continue. If any of them thought he would do anything but all that was in his power, then they had another thing coming. And if she was truly beyond his help, then he would do her the favor of putting her out of her misery.

* * *

 **AN:** Even though I want to make this cute coming up, you didn't really expect she'd be 100% okay did you? After near death and a literal possession by a fear element? Oh no, she's going to be all kinds of psychologically jacked up.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Jessica's song: The pretty Reckless, My Medicine. You can probably tell why cute is a CHALLENGE FOR ME. Maybe I'll manage it better next chapter? X_X

* * *

The world was black, but she could make out the muffled voices outside of the void, if vaguely. She could also tell she was moving, but her muscles were still too heavy to so much as twitch. She was so tired, her heavy lids fell back into place, wondering if she had finally died. Was this what had been awaiting her? It didn't last, soon the gentle jostling motion that had begun to sooth her came to a stop. Something bright began to pull back the curtain, as if she were in an empty black movie theater and someone had begun to unzip the screen ahead. Top to bottom, revealing pure white behind it.

She could feel the light assaulting her eyes through the lids, brow furrowing with irritation and eyes slowly prying open to see who was responsible.

"I told you I was going to help. First step was getting out of that place." seeing him grin down at her was weird. She was accustomed to the grumpy frowns and disapproving words. This was...not the man she knew. Whoever this was wearing his face was far more frightening. She didn't like it. She wanted to reach out her hand and shove that face away, but her arm barely began to lift and he took the hand as if reassuring.

"Don't you worry, I got a hold of your file. You _did_ get her file, didn't you George?" he turned a sharp look to the other man, now that her vision was clearing she could see three other men standing around.

"Right here, boss." he held out the file and Crane snatched it away to let her hand go and flip through it.

"I told you to call me professor." he corrected, and earned a nod from the goon. What was going on? She wasn't dead, she wasn't strapped to that bed in the medical wing, and the Scarecrow of all people was motioning for them to keep wheeling the stretcher she was on.

"Some of these medications we can't take you off right away. Not on these doses. But you'll be off everything soon enough. Though the withdraw won't be fun." he was talking at her as if she could keep up, instead of drifting back into the world of sleep and black.

* * *

Her eyes shot open, this time the world dull and dark and grungy. Chest rose and arms twitched with a deep inhale, manic eyes jumping from thing to thing. There was a needle getting withdrawn from her skin, she didn't know what had been in it.

"Well good morning." he had his mask on, and she preferred that a great deal. She could hear the smile but at least she couldn't see it now. Like this it was more familiar. The world was spinning, and she was having a hard time seeing more than outlines of where figures ought to be, though she seemed to be on something soft now instead of what ever she'd been on before. Sitting up was a struggle, more of a flop from one position to another, but she held up a hand to motion that she didn't want help. Or at least, she thought she did. Instead she tried to speak from where she had crumpled into what must have been couch cushions. It took her a few tries through parched lips.

"Where..." she felt a gloved hand dip under her chin and help her sit up, looking up into the burlap mask, which refused to stay still. Some might have been frightened, but a giggle burst from the bubble of her throat instead. A slow hand had the strength to rise up and press to it, the material squirming under her touch. Instead of revulsion it earned a smirk, and she managed a solid sentence.

"Somebody mixed my medicine." a low chuckle was her answer from him,

"They most certainly did. But I'll fix you right up." he held out the empty needle and one of the gray blobs moved forward to take it from him. She still didn't know what had been in it. She didn't care. She vaguely could tell he was unwrapping something from her arm but the sensation was too distant for her to care.

"Somebody's in my head again..." she giggled, slumping against his straw-wrapped frame. It gave him a pause she didn't notice,

"Are they?" his gaze scrutinized her but she just leaned back again, swaying with a hum. There was no supernatural air around her, no whisper of the world's terrors, and it seemed he knew it too because he gave a nod.

"Jessica, I'm going to need you to focus. Can you do that?" he was holding her upright again by her shoulders and she frowned, concentrating harder and giving a nod. She wasn't actually so sure.

"You're going to be my student now. As I said before, I don't hand out grades. I'll expect you to work hard and study harder. You'll have the next few days to recover and regain your faculties, and then the studies will begin. I'll also be administering a test to see just where we should start you off and what areas to focus on." her eyes narrowed on him as he spoke, trying to stay focused. He said it like she had no choice in the matter. She supposed she didn't, given the circumstances. Did she care about that? Not really. She had been the one to ask before. What else was she going to do, pretend to be normal? Fake it till she makes it just enough to regain society? Not likely. Her head fell back first and the rest of her followed with a sigh.

"Yeah. Okay." she agreed, unable to fall back asleep. Slowly, very slowly, the world was piecing itself back together. "What'd you give me?" she asked at last. He answered without hesitation,

"Just something to counter-act what they've had you on. It will take a few days to get you back to normal." she laughed at the word choice, body wracked by the motion.

"Normal? You _are_ a miracle worker..."

"As normal as the likes of us get." he corrected, and she could hear the smirk behind the mask. When she looked around she realized the gray blobs had gone off, though more of the world was beginning to clear up. It was still swimming. He spoke up again.

"For a moment I thought your mind had been wasted."

"As much as my body?" she stretched with a crack of joints, popping her neck by turning it side to side, "we'll see. I'm still breathing." for the moment she was able to keep up with the conversation more and more.

"So you are. Soon, you'll be doing much more than that." she only smiled with a hum.

* * *

 **AN:** Crane thought process: She worked with me once and almost died in the process and is even crazier than she started off? I'll just kidnap her and take over as her doctor. WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** I appreciate folks bearing with me while I figure this out and force myself to update regularly while I still have free time. I'm sparing you a full on lecture, pretty sure that's not what you're here for so I'll keep the teacherly stuff more story oriented and less...actually giving lectures on this material.

It also occurs to me I didn't specify location. They're in the house he set up in the Under-city, as mentioned in the previous story.

* * *

Jessica recovered well enough, in no small part to the daily administration of his own personal concoction. To say he had no respect for the doctors of Arkham and their lazy methods of medicating to complacency in place of offering proper treatment, would be an understatement. Under _his_ care, she was devouring the books in his library within a few days. She was also back to not really speaking, but she responded with nods and movements and clearly comprehended what she was told. Which unnerved the boys he hired and amused Crane. Every time she skittered about outside of the library the two burly men who stuck around would make every effort to keep their distance and not be noticed by her. Perhaps they were afraid of what he might do to them if they made a wrong move, perhaps she simply spooked them because of what they didn't know mingling with what little they did. Either way Crane smirked every time she emerged from the crypt of texts she had chosen.

"How are your studies coming?" he inquired on a particular evening when she'd crept out to grab a snack. She just gave a nod.

"I've graded your first exam, would you be interested in the results?" now, he had her full attention. Good. He motioned to a chair and she took it, forgetting her plan for a snack.

"Your technical knowledge is the primary place we'll need to improve, which is no real surprise. And of course your chemistry skills are non-existent, but that too I anticipated. Not to worry, I have full lesson plans prepared for both areas. You did have more of a grasp on core psychology-"

"Not good enough."

"Pardon?"

"I thought I'd prepared better." she was glaring at the papers, which made him follow her gaze to check if there wasn't something sticking to the pages. Nothing.

"And how, exactly, are you able to prepare for a class you've never taken?" one brow rose behind the burlap to wait for a response, but instead she averted her gaze and all but squirmed in trying to find and answer. So he answered for her.

"You're one of those students who made nothing but A's, aren't you?" the flick of her eyes confirmed it for him. No, that didn't quite sum it up, so he continued.

"You're one of those students who _had_ to make the grade." she didn't bother looking surprised, though clearly didn't like how easily he read her either. He'd seen them crop up in his classes every so often, the manic things desperate to keep their GPA at a certain level, riding their entire worth on the marks of a grade. To get anything less than the highest score possible, may as well have been a failure on their part. It presented its own particular challenge, but he had a method in place for dealing with these kinds of kids.

"Your grade is now an F." now her eyes widened, before narrowing so she could argue.

"How? You just said-"

"Now it's an F." she closed her mouth to fume at him, absolutely shaking.

"You can't-"

"I think you'll find I can. On to your next assignment. Why, exactly, do you care about that grade? Feel free to think on it, and bring me your answer." he already knew the answer, of course. It was obvious. The point now was to make her realize it. Showing how well he could read her would do little good, she needed to be able to evaluate herself and, eventually, everyone else. He turned his attention away from her to continue on his way back to his lab and his own work.

He estimated it would take her anywhere from a few hours to a few days to ponder over the current question, most people have a remarkably difficult time with self-analysis and confronting their own short comings. He was quickly lost in his own compounds, time loosing meaning. In fact, it took him a few minutes of her standing there to even notice she had come into the room, and glanced up at the clock to find three hours had passed. He didn't bother turning towards her.

"Yes?" with anyone else he would expect a rambling round-about answer, but for someone who didn't like to speak unless she had to she jumped to the point.

"Anything less than perfect is worthless."

"F. Try again."

"I _have_ to be perfect."

"F."

"I've never been perfect."

"Obvious." she was glaring again, but kept the conversation going.

"I was _expected_ to be perfect." now that, was more along the lines. Instead of giving her a letter he pointedly waited for her to continue.

"I had to keep up appearances. Anything less would mean consequences."

"And what consequences do you anticipate here?" she glanced away but forced a steely answer.

"You'll kick me out." there it was. He turned his chair to face her.

"You are training under the Master of Fear. You will amount to nothing if you can't recognize the terrors which plague your own mind and confront them." he raised a hand, slow enough to keep her from flinching and placing it on her shoulder. His voice was calm and holding the confidence she currently lacked.

"I will not abuse you, and by the time I'm done you won't have to worry about anyone else either. And I won't abandon you. If you prove to indeed be worthless, I will put you out of your misery." her eyes flicked between the holes of his mask so he clarified beyond a doubt,

"I will kill you myself." perhaps not the most reassuring thing to hear for a more ordinary mind, but she only gave a nod.

"Your assignments are thus: In that box hanging on the wall you'll find your chemistry assignment. I've also included an assignment on hallucinogens including their active chemical components, and will expect you to memorize the primary attributes of each. As you complete your work you will turn it in to the inbox and pick up your next assignment. As well as the technical work, I expect you to be addressing your own inner fears and coming up with a way to overcome them. Your next test, will involve my fear toxins. Until you can master yourself, you won't be fit to begin learning even the base formulas. Is any of that unclear?" she shook her head, and he turned back to his own work, the sign for her dismissal. She shuffled away, he wouldn't have been surprised if she rejected the assignment and stubbornly tried to leave. Or run. Not that she would get very far, but he was very used to even those who received his kindness taking to fleeing. He waited to see what she would do, while also actively trying to look like he was busy. He saw her take the assignments from their slots and shuffle off. Wise choice.

* * *

 **AN:** "I won't abuse you." Crane, I'm pretty sure threatening to kill someone counts as some flavor of abusive. Oh, I'm sorry, "Promising" to kill someone. Yeah, that's MUCH better. *rolls eyes*


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** chuggin along. Feedback would be appreciated since I have NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING. Woop.

* * *

Jessica supposed she ought to find her situation worse than it was. Succeed, or die. Stay, or die she would imagine. So why didn't she mind the arrangement so much? Was it because she was already accustomed to ultimatums? Was it because she still hadn't fully dealt with the fact that she thought she had already died? Was it because of what she was gaining in return, staying simply so she would have the tools at her disposal for taking on the world outside herself? She had finished the chemistry work and studies on hallucinogens easily enough, now was the harder process. She'd been wracking her brains about all these questions for hours. Turning it all over in every direction possible. She knew what she had experienced, but what did she feel about it now?

She knew loss. She knew verbal and physical abuse, unable to reach out for help without greater reprimand at home. She knew hiding, hiding, hiding, pretending to be what everyone wanted from her. The perfect family. The perfectly motivated daughter, filled with christian virtues and a solid head on her shoulders. The perfect combination of just smart enough to impress, while also being meek and quiet and pleasant to look at. It was a wonder her father hadn't arranged a marriage for her, though he had insisted she commute to college from home.

She had destroyed everything. Without meaning to, without knowing it. She'd blacked out, and woken up with the knife in her hands and blood staining her clothes. She didn't even know what triggered it, the closest she could guess was the years of repression became too much. Now she was the crazy girl who snapped and killed her classmates in political science, and couldn't even remember doing it. Now she was the silent, compliant, mouse of Arkham. Too damaged to mean anything. The crazy girl who ripped open her own pretty face in front of the Joker, who spoke to no one but the Scarecrow who had been kind enough to give her books. The bat-shit girl who messed with her real mother's occult book, though her mother didn't live long enough to teach her all she needed. The jacked-in-the-head girl who slit her own throat and wound up possessed by a fear elemental, which wrecked her body and mind alike.

But she survived. Despite everything that had happened so far, she was still breathing. So what did she feel? Why was she still afraid failure? When she had already failed everything that used to matter. Was she truly numb to the physical blows, or did she still dread them deep down under that hollow place in her chest? It was all his doing, wasn't it? She groaned at how typical of a trope it was. Little girl with daddy issues. How pathetic. But it did push her up off the floor, a fierce determination boiling within the cold quiet within.

This time she didn't shuffle, she strode into his lab and dropped the completed assignments into the right box. Instead of grabbing the next waiting assignments she whirled and all but marched up to where he was tonight (or today? The sunlight didn't reach down here she had no idea what time it was) to declare,

"Alright. Lets do it. And when that's done, I know exactly who I want to destroy." He glanced up, and did a double take, actually scooting back away from her with a start.

"What?"

"Your eyes are green." she frowned, and it took her a moment to realize why that bothered him so much, holding up one hand to measure her height.

"I feel normal. It's still me." he stood, verifying that her height hadn't changed. Instantly his mind turned to academic pondering.

"Interesting. And you feel no other side effects?" Jessica shook her head, allowing his gloved hands to tuck under her chin and direct her head this way and that, watching her eyes.

"You said something about a test?" he paused, or was it a hesitation? Either way she was standing her ground.

"Yes. Follow me, my dear." he led the way to a table on the far end of the room, straps waiting and motioned for her to take a seat. Safety precaution, she would imagine, and complied. She wasn't anymore worried about the straps tightening around her arms, legs, and finally head, anymore than being worried about him the rest of the time. No, she kept her calm even as he tied the band around her arm and prepared the needle. She imagined he was taking his time specifically to see if it would unnerve her, but she just smiled pleasantly. She'd had so much practice being polite and complacent, though this didn't feel quite the same. The needle found her arm, she barely registered it at all until she felt the stream of liquid pour into her. She should have been frightened. Instead she gave a hum and waited for it to kick in.

She didn't have to wait long. Even in the face of her confidence she could feel her breath shorten and heart begin to race. Her muscles tensed and twitched. An involuntary gasp got pulled from her throat, and for only a moment she squeezed her eyes shut before reminding herself to pry them open. She expected the figure standing at the foot of the table, and because she expected him a vicious grin split her face.

"I'm coming to get you, you know." he didn't like that. She didn't care. Instead she turned her attention back to her mentor. "I very much doubt he'll show up once he's dead, but we could always run it again to find out." she noticed the movement from the corner of her eyes and shot a glare back at the soon to be dead man. She wasn't sure how realistic these illusions were supposed to be, but she still registered it wasn't real even as the world began to twist in on itself and the inanimate objects began to move.

"Go pray to your God." she dismissed, sitting back and closing her eyes to wait out the effects. General physical fear wasn't so bad. It was like a roller coaster, or those rides that take you high then drop you. Adrenalin, sure, but not the same as the agony of that very first time. She had to wonder if he'd given her a lower dose this time. A low chuckle in her ear made her heart jump, but she didn't make a sound about it at least.

"Will you actually be able to do it though, is the question." doubt? Really?

"It won't be the first time."

"True, though there's a difference between something personal and a stranger. Are you sure you won't loose your nerve?" she opened her eyes now, greeted with a burlap monstrosity, spiders and maggots dripping from every hole in swarming masses. The spill of black spiders landed on her chest and she could actually _feel_ them spreading out and under gray sweater in their panic. Admittedly she couldn't keep her face from grimacing or her torso from trying in vain to get them to stop. It was probably a good thing her arms were strapped down after all. He was watching with much too much interest, so she closed her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing with concentration, only to feel his hand on her jaw jerk her back to the present.

"No no no." he said, and she could tell well enough he was no longer in the purely professional nodes of a professor. Not that she was one to judge crazy. "I told you, you must confront your fears." he hissed, and she complied enough to open her eyes and search out his behind the black holes that served as eyes. No such luck, though it gave him pause.

"You shiver and shake, but don't make a sound." he sounded disappointed, withdrawing. She tried to shrug but it didn't really work out.

"One of these days, I'll get a scream from you. But not today." she just smiled, beginning to come down. Yeah, that had to have been a much lower dose. Or maybe the difference was administration?

"Is that a promise?" she asked, voice sounding more solid than she felt. The straps were being undone, and she vaguely registered a nod.

* * *

 **AN:** yaaaay pumping out first drafts like no one's business. It's really weird not having a whole thing planned out for once, but also kinda fun? What is sleep?


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Semblant's Dark of the Day is keeping me awake.

I'm kind of skipping around a bit and keeping these chapters shortish. So sue me.

* * *

Crimson was staining her skin and clothes, a gleeful smile plastered across her face. Crane sat comfortably on the arm of the sofa, the woman at his side sobbing through her gag and looking forward in both disbelief and horror.

"Does that feel better?" he asked with a smirk, getting a nod and something that looked like actual happiness from his student. Her eyes had returned to gray, and were regarding her step-mother.

"Really, you ought to be thanking me. I've done what you never had the courage to do." she still held the knife as she crossed the room, putting her free hand on the gag, "If you scream, I'll have no choice but to kill you too." but she didn't scream.

"What have you done? Jessica, this isn't like you. You-"

"Bored." she glanced down at the bloodied clothes with a wrinkled nose, "well at least my room is here. Might as well grab a few things before we go." she ran up the stairs before her step-mother could say anything more. Which left the two muscled goons, the Scarecrow, and the terrified woman in the living room. And the bloody body, if that sort of thing could be counted. With no one else to address the woman left behind turned to the nightmare she blamed for this.

"What did you do to her?" she might have meant it to sound like a fierce mother's rage, but it only sounded defeated.

"I didn't do a thing Mrs. Milner. Unless, of course, you count supporting what she truly wanted." she could see the mask move with his growing smile, and it only made her stomach lurch. She didn't even think to scream for help, every ounce of fight had been beaten out of her long ago. Instead she sobbed quietly, eyes lingering on the lump of flesh that used to be her husband. Minutes later Jessica came hurling down the stairs, fresh clothes and a duffel bag in tow. Dark green sweater and jeans, nothing fancy. It used to compliment an olive skin tone, but after all that had happened she'd paled out considerably.

"And what do you want to do with her?" George was the one to ask, leaving Jessica to consider for a moment.

"I'll let her live with the guilt." Jessica shrugged, indifference only refreshing the sobs. "She's already tied up, so shouldn't be much of a problem." Crane's words came just as calm and indifferent.

"She could testify against you in court." but that only made Jessica laugh.

"They already want me locked up for life. So why should I care about that?" she shouldered her bag, giving Crane a smile.

"So, where to next?"

* * *

"You're going to need a code name. I don't imagine you still want to use-"

"No, not at all." Jessica's nose wrinkled at the very idea, earning a nod. She wasn't too terribly interested in the world passing by outside the window, so turned her gaze back to the unmasked Crane. Mapping out the lines running over his worn skin. She still didn't fully understand why she was here. It's not like he needed a runt like her around. He could hire plenty of basic goons. She was sure she wasn't the only one insane enough to want to learn from him. And he didn't really seem like the kind to be lonely, not if he's spent this long on his own. How old was he, anyways? She was tempted to ask but not sure how he'd take that.

"You're staring." he commented, as the car pulled into the darkened garage and located a parking spot.

"How old are you, anyways?" there she goes, earning a side-eye and raised brow.

"I fail to see why that matters."

"Curious."

"Twice your age, child." She was about to ask how he knew her age, but then remembered he had her file, "Now about a name for you. I'm sure you don't want to go by Mouse." her shoulders shrugged.

"I guess I could come up with something that would match the wardrobe." she glanced down at her own, thinking it out, "To be honest these kinds of details have been the least of my worries. But I like grays. I could wear tattered gray stuff and use the name Haunt. After all, I should be dead." she offered. Spook was probably too cute of a nickname.

"You don't have to say that so casually." the bite to the words startled her, and she couldn't read what ever emotion was reflected, if barely, on his face.

"...Sorry." she settled on, glancing away and trying not to squirm in the seat.

"Does being alive bother you?" his eyes were on the gash on her throat.

"No it's just...strange. When I already accepted death." She heard movement, glancing up just in time to will herself not to flinch at the hand reaching out, holding her breath at the thumb that ran over the scar on her neck.

"You have plenty of reason to live now." she could feel her face beginning to flush, shrinking back without understanding why and unbuckling her seat-belt.

"So I do! Speaking of, there's still plenty of work to get done!" she declared, almost cheerfully if it wasn't for the sinister glee floating beneath the surface. She didn't wait for him, opening the car door and listing the things out loud as she grabbed her duffel bag.

"I've got more assignments to finish, we should probably run me through the toxins again and make sure today's field-trip worked, I should make an outfit since I've got just the thing in mind, much to do!" she was already walking towards the entrance to undercity, but paused to glance back.

"Coming?" as ever he took his time doing things at his own pace, but this time she let him catch up and move to take the lead, earning a brief pat on her head as he passed.


	6. Chapter 6

Jessica glanced in the dirty mirror again, the one with three large cracks running through it. A knock at the bathroom door and she called out,

"Alright, but you can't laugh." she probably couldn't be heard through the door, but no matter. Out she swept, the long gray tatters that formed her skirt sweeping the floor around her bare feet, an over sized gray-knit sweater that hung off one shoulder going on over the tank top dress. Her hair, of course, was as unkempt as ever, and she didn't bother with any makeup to cover the bags under her eyes or the two dominant scars stretched over her skin.

"Now why would I laugh?" she could tell he was grinning behind that mask of his again, "Boys, meet Haunt. The future Mistress of Fear." when he said it like that she wanted to shrink back to her prior shy antics, but she forced herself to remain standing tall as the hired help applauded.

"Of course," he continued, "There's the issue of weapon. At least for the moment, though starting next week you'll begin learning the first more basic formulas. For this evening, however, this ought to work." He held out a brown satchel she could sling over her shoulders, and within it she found three different canisters.

"For emergencies only, such as if we get cornered by the bat-family. You remember what to do if that happens, don't you?"

"If I escape, return here only when I'm sure I'm no longer being followed. If you escape, you'll find a way to get me out of Arkham. If I don't get the opportunity first. If we get separated, meet at the third tunnel." He nodded, placing a hand on her head.

"Good girl. Now, it's time-" she nearly knocked the wind out of him, wrapping her arms around and squeezing. After the initial impact he accepted the motion for what it was, resting the hand on her head again with a chuckle. She pulled away before he had to tell her to do so, and he could mistake the brief expression she gave for nothing other than admiration.

"To re-enter Gotham." she finished, standing as tall as she could, though it wasn't nearly as tall as he was. Still, the smile over her lips was perfectly eager and absolutely predatory, eyes reflecting every ounce of insanity she had gained.

It was only a small errand, of course. He didn't actually believe she had learned quite enough for much more than that, but the fact that she was testing out wardrobe and presence in itself felt pretty exciting.

Travel went easily, though she found her nerves heightened with every minute. Which she wasn't about to let Crane know for one second. Even if he could probably already tell. Without meaning to she had slipped back into her quiet habit. She didn't say a word as they traveled. Not when they got out of the car. Not when they went into the back of the Iceberg Lounge. Not to any of the men they encountered there, not to the woman who shuffled to try to avoid being noticed. She was only along for the ride, letting Crane handle all the talking and simply observing. Even when the Penguin himself came out, she said nothing. The two men greeted one another, and she had to admit she felt a good deal out of place suddenly. One lone female in a sea of villainy, and it was not lost on her for a moment just how few of her gender had made it before her. Harley. Ivy. They were the only two she knew of.

"And who's this?" Penguin nodded in her direction and Crane held out a hand. Without even thinking about it she glided forward to place one of hers within his outstretched palm, then immediately chided herself for it silently.

"Haunt." she forced the name from her lips and was glad at least it didn't quiver, even if her voice itself she suspected would be hoarse for the rest of her life. The smile on her face would not have been reassuring to anyone ordinary, but when she held out a hand to shake Penguin took it without reservation and laid a chaste kiss to it.

"Charmed. Are you enjoying your lessons?" the student teacher relationship was evidently obvious. She gave a nod.

"Absolutely." though she had a long way to go, he didn't need to know that. She turned her attention back to Crane and earned a nod.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"Not at all, that should be all the supplies you're needing, and your payment cleared. The Bat should be busy tonight with Dent's recent activity." Crane gave another nod.

"Well then, shall we my dear?" she turned with a nod, thinking almost last moment to add,

"Pleasure to meet you." back to their host, who gave a small smile for the polite return of formalities.

* * *

No trouble at all, though Crane warned her that any of the rogues could have a habit of turning on her, no matter how nice they might seem in the moment. Which was downright funny, coming from him, but she kept that comment to herself. Some things were worth the risk. On their return she had set back to work as per usual, making steady progress through each assignment as she had made progress with the books themselves. Or she had been. Tonight she was staring at the open material, all traces of motivation gone completely. Every trace of emotion blank, missing. Her vision jumped between each book that was open and each stack she had been working on. No desire to continue at the moment. Perhaps she should sleep then? She sank down flat onto the ground, but her eyes refused to close. Or even blink. She wasn't sure how long she laid there like that, muscles too heavy to even want to twitch. Could have been minutes. Could have been hours.

Eventually she pushed herself up, twitching as she rose. This felt...familiar. This hunger. Traces of something she had felt before, but not nearly strong enough to control her. Not this time. But it was prying, plucking, squirming inside the pit of her stomach. Her feet were moving with no real destination in mind, shambling through the broken down house and pausing in doorways. She wasn't sure how long she stood swaying in each doorway she passed, at one point she was vaguely aware she passed George, but he smartly didn't want anything to do with her. And she left him be. Gradually, her trail took her to Crane's lab, standing in that doorway as well. He had actually fallen asleep, slumped over his desk. Her footsteps into the room were slow and light, he didn't stir at all when she stopped next to him. She stood there too, perfectly still, watching the slight movement of his breathing. He wasn't at all what anyone would call attractive. Age had worn him down, as had the countless battles on fragile frame. A nose that had been broken too many times, gangly form ever reminiscent of the awkward stage of youth despite how many years had passed. She tried to get a glance at the papers scattered over his desk, but too many were beneath him for her to get an idea of what he was currently working on. So her attention returned to his features.

She wanted to reach out and touch him, but stayed her hand. Instead she went to collect the throw blanket nearby and drape it over his shoulders, taking the risk to lean in and lay a peck of a kiss on his temple goodnight. She supposed she ought to try to get some sleep herself, and returned to the comfort of the books to do so.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN** : yay for more late night writing instead of eating or sleeping. Woot! #healthyliving

* * *

The music couldn't quite out pace the buzz of conversation. Back when she'd been a college student there was no way she would have ever been found in a seedy place like this. Not just because she wouldn't have been allowed to, or invited to, but she wouldn't have wanted to. Walking in next to the Scarecrow promised the inhabitants would leave her be, but in truth that was only irritating her. So far they were only cautious of her because of her attachment to him. This would not suffice. She let it slide for the moment only because some of the other rogues had gathered here, and she would have the opportunity to observe them. Her job for the evening was to watch, learn, observe her future peers in crime. She was still learning the compounds, and far too eager to begin working on her own designs, no matter how frequently he reminded her that she was nowhere near ready for that yet. Perhaps if she worked with more natural means? The hallucinogens she had continued to study? There was potential there, why even the street rats could cook up meth and other such things in their own home-made labs. She was certain she could do better than them.

All in good time. For right now, watch. Learn. The Riddler was present, he did little more than glance in her direction on occasion. Harley and Ivy were the first two to approach her, almost the very minute her mentor left her side. Should she be concerned? They _looked_ friendly enough, though her guard was up.

"Still not brushing your hair I see." Harley shook her head, playing with a lock and taking a seat. Ivy sat on the other side of her.

"So you're the one our dear professor has taken under his wing." the woman purred, every movement and breath sensual. Harley was nice enough, especially out of her uniform and all done up, but Ivy was breath-taking. The way the red hair pooled around her delicate pale features, Jessica had to pull herself away from staring to give a nod.

"She didn't say one word when in Arkham." Harley informed, though Ivy's fingers began playing at the scar over Jessica's throat with a gentle enough touch to make her breath hitch for a moment and her gaze draw back to the woman's face.

"Oh, I think she's perfectly capable of speaking. Aren't you?" Jessica had no idea how this woman existed. No one was rightfully this...perfect. But she managed an answer.

"I do, yes." she even managed a smile, earning an exaggerated gasp from Harley.

"So she does!" she giggled, the sultry Ivy keeping the conversation going and a hand playing on her face.

"Do you have a name?"

"Haunt."

"Well, Haunt, it's rather nice to have another woman around. You've probably noticed how few of us their are."

"Yeah, it's a real sausage fest!"

"Though, even with so few of us, we really must say, we're quite fond of the professor. In our own way." instantly the atmosphere changed, both woman leaning in to regard Jessica with a threat for violence if she answered incorrectly.

"You're not planning anything untoward for him, are you?" Ivy inquired. All at once the spell broke, Jessica pushing both of them back enough to give her breathing space.

"How dare you! I would never, _ever_ , the very idea-" she was sputtering out words she couldn't even think on before Harley quickly motioned for her to calm down.

"Hey, hey, chill. We had to ask!" Jessica shot a glare at each, but then took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"See, Red, I told yah. I pegged it the day she got that first scar." Jessica did not appreciate being talked over as if she wasn't there, and opened her mouth to say as much when Harley's next words floored her.

"You really love 'im, dontcha?" Her eyes doubled, mouth hanging open.

"What?" she finally managed, "No! Why would you even-"

"Oooh, honey. It's obvious." Ivy soothed.

"No one does half of what you've done if they don't. Why you think I'm with Mistah J?" Jessica did not much like that comparison. Not in the least, but knew better than to correct the idea. If nothing else, Harley _thinking_ they had more in common than they did could be an advantage later.

"You could do worse." Ivy hummed, all but pointedly casting a look at Harley, who either missed it completely or wasn't willing to acknowledge it.

"Well I think yall would be a cute couple. Welcome to the big, crazy, family!" it was only then that Jessica noticed the girls had brought an extra shot glass, which was passed to her in an offer for cheers. Was this some kind of test? Should she trust it? What did she have to fear? She threw on a more confident smile, took the shot glass in hand, and knocked it back at the same time they did, barely managing not to cough at the burning sensation going down her throat. It made Harley happy enough, giggling and declaring she'd go get them round two, they were celebrating. The more calm Ivy gave a simple smile to mark her approval. She considered keeping her mouth shut, but something unknown drove her to correct once Harley was out of earshot.

"It's not really like that." Ivy's expression denoted that she didn't buy it.

"It's not! He's twice my age, for one. For another-"

"There's only one piece of advice I care to give you." Ivy interrupted, and when she only got a curious look she continued, "Never, ever, let a man own you. The professor might be better than some, but at the end of the day he's still a man." once again Jessica was feeling awestruck, words more breathless than she really intended.

"And what's that make you?" she asked. Ivy only smirked, and it made Jessica's heart skip a beat as Harley brought the second round of drinks. If Jessica had any sense, she probably would have refused. Instead when Crane's business concluded and he returned to the girls there was a litter of empty shot glasses. Harley had run off. Jessica was practically in Ivy's lap, unable to take her eyes off the woman for a second.

"There you are, Professor. I was just getting to know your lovely new accomplice." Ivy purrs, hands playing effortlessly over Jessica's side where her arm had wrapped around the girl. Crane knew more than enough to recognize what this was instantly, though he could have sworn those pheromones didn't work on woman? Or was it only that they didn't work on _most_ women? The empty glasses also weren't lost on him, inwardly sighing at the potential mess waiting to happen.

"Je-" he had to stop to correct himself, "Haunt. How much did you drink?" her brow furrowed as she eyed the empty glasses, mentally trying to count them up and failing.

"Three?"

"Yes, three my dear." Ivy answered for her, handling it all infinitely better than the dizzy girl leaning against her.

"Heya professor! We were celebrating! You want to catch up?" an all too pleased Harley had bounced back over, holding out an extra drink for him.

"Thank you, child, but no. Unfortunately, it's time we be going." he turned back to his pupil and inwardly smacked a hand to his face at seeing her so intently buried in Ivy's red locks. Yes, they were definitely going. Could she at least walk?

"Come along, Haunt, say good bye to the girls. There will be plenty of time to play with them later." her attention finally came back to him, a dumb smile over her face as she gave a nod and managed to stand (what a miracle).

"Until next time." she even managed a dignified good bye. They turned to go, and she didn't need any assistance until they got out the door. Harley and Ivy watched them go.

"You think it'll work?" Harley asked, plopping back down in the chair.

"I think we've done all we can for those two."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** I've got some options going further from here, so could use some reader input. Let me know what yall are thinking so far with this and where you might think it's going? Or where you'd be interested in seeing it go? :)

Also short chapter is short woops. Contemplating too much before continuing.

* * *

Jessica would positively not shut up about Ivy the entire drive back. Alright, that wasn't accurate. She had her usual quiet moments. But each time she did speak up it was about Ivy. She smelled nice. She looked nice. She was smart too, right? He mentally made a note that this was probably the effects of those pheromones, which gave away that his apprentice was most certainly of the persuasion to fall for a woman. Which wasn't his place to judge, he'd grown up around more than enough bigots to not wish to fall into the same category himself over something as ridiculous as a preference found in almost all species of the animal kingdom. Although, if the dangerous woman had too bad of plans for his girl he might need to step in. The rose had obvious thorns, and at this moment her head wasn't clear enough to notice. It wasn't until they had gotten home, that it looked like she was walking straight again clearing up. At which point, her line of contemplation finally turned productive.

"Ivy is an expert on plants, isn't she?"

"She was a botanist before her current state of being came into play, and yes she's continued to further her expertise in the years after her natural inclination." Jessica nodded.

"I've continued studying the more natural occurring methods. I wonder if she wouldn't know some ways to grow a modified base that would prove more potent." now that, was a line of thinking Crane could grin at, but he prompted her to continue.

"Ivy can be dangerous, and I doubt she would want to do something for you simply because you ask."

"True, but if the results would be mutually beneficial? If she can create modified plants that have a more potent hallucinogenic effect on humans, also induced from skin contact alone. Perhaps a combination of Banisteriopsis and...what was it called?" she hit a hand to her temple a few times, frustrated with the forgotten info, "It's in my notes. There was a case with a kid who was committed to an asylum several times and the parents couldn't figure it out. He'd be fine, go home, go mad again. It stopped when they moved and they later learned that plant grew in the field he was playing in. Side effects numbing of limbs, hallucinations...people do stuff like cut off fingers and hug cactus. It's perfectly legal to grow..." finally she shook her head, "the point is, such a plant would be very capable of protecting itself against threats or adding to her own arsenal. It's a win-win."

"And you're not simply looking for an excuse to see her again?" he was smirking beneath his mask, a playful prod, though it turned her face a shade. Probably not noticeable with her original olive complexion, but since going to Arkham she had paled out just enough for a blush to be noticed.

"Not at all. I simply think it would be a useful addition to my studies. After all, if I can understand more about the naturally occurring chemical components, won't it also increase my understanding of your own work and the work to come?" It was a good attempt at a save, but he wasn't quite ready to let her live this down just yet.

"Well, you certainly seemed enraptured with her when I found you. And for the drive back." her face managed to grow even darker.

"Funny, they think I'm in love with you." that whipped the smile off his face, his arms crossing and tone growing stern.

"I'm twice your age, child."

"That's what I told them. I mean that would hardly be appropriate."

"Most unprofessional." he agreed, as if they weren't escaped inmates from Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

"Well, at least we can agree on that." she nodded, yawning.

"And I learned something else." she found a seat with a stretch, eyes growing heavy by the looks of it. "Two things even. Alcohol makes you sleepy. And it's definitely not like in the movies, where they show someone drink a whole bunch and barely have it do a thing."

"Either that or you're a light weight." she just laughed, giving a nod.

"So it would seem. Although," her brow furrowed in an attempt to grow more serious despite the lingering tipsy inebriation, "I would like to find some ways to stand on my own feet too. Not that I don't appreciate being able to follow in your footsteps, but shouldn't I be able to do more?"

"All in good time, my dear. You have to learn to crawl before you can run." instead of the usual gentle compliance an exasperated sigh was the response.

"Fair fair, but I want to be more useful." as much as a pout suited her face, he wasn't going to indulge it.

"Then keep focused on your studies." not the answer she wanted to hear, but she had no argument to give. On the contrary she positively squirmed with the desire to argue, finally relenting with a,

"Yes sir." May as well complete the cycle, he moved over to give her head a pat as she slumped further into the chair.

"After a nap..." she'd already begun to drift off, the last thing she heard his amused chuckle.


End file.
